The Effort of Trying
by truglasgowgal
Summary: She's never really been one for the whole Dear Diary idea; but after 4 hours and 37 minutes, she begins to think the idea of writing down her thoughts might not be the most ridiculous thing she's ever come up with. Blair-centric.


Hey there  
So, this is the first Gossip Girl fic I've actually finished, and as a result this is the first, in what I hope will be a long line, that I'm posting.  
It's more than a little random, an I've written it in a different tense from what I usually use, but your thoughts would be much appreciated all the same – con. crit is welcome too, because it always helps to improve my writing.  
Hope you enjoy…

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**Title:** The Effort of Trying  
**Disclaimer:** I own none of the characters.  
**Summary:** She's never really been one for the whole _Dear diary_ idea; but after 4 hours and 37 minutes, she begins to think the idea of writing down **her** thoughts might not be the most ridiculous thing she's ever come up with.

"_What other words, we may almost ask, are memorable and worthy to be repeated than those which love has inspired? It is wonderful that they were ever uttered. They are few and rare indeed…"  
_– _Henry Thoreau, 'A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers'_

She's never really been one for the whole _Dear diary_ idea; but she's been sitting in her room for God only knows how long (_4 hours and 37 minutes – 38 in a few more seconds_), staring at the glowing computer screen before her, music streaming from the speakers, as her mind tries to overcome the fact that she's been rejected – again.

In truth, she feels more than just a little pathetic.

This is not her.

**She** does not… _mope_ over such things, for lack of a more… _appropriate_ term.

In all honesty, she's somewhat ashamed at the encompassing tirade that has consumed her for the past – well, since _he_ went and opened his big, fat, stupid mouth anyway.

As already stated: This. Is. Not. Her.

She blames the stupid lyrics flowing around the room; then she blames her stupid ears for listening and her stupid brain for processing the words, but most of all she blames her stupid, stupid heart for leading it all back to _him_.

Of course, she also blames the stupid words in front of her; then the stupid pictures that feel the need to accompany them; she blames her stupid eyes for seeing them and the process with her stupid brain and equally, if not _more_, stupid heart rears its ugly self once more.

And, somewhere between the utter hatred of all things men and the complete self-loathing and shame, she's struck upon by the idea that writing down her own thoughts on the matter might not be the most ridiculous thing she's ever thought of.

Sure, it's been done countless times before, but she's never been the scribe; and if her incredible mind thought it a good idea to process the words and thoughts of others, it could damn well do the same for her own.

It starts off easy, flowing; she's always had a sort of idea of what she wants: out of life, out of him.

Then, all too suddenly, it starts to change: it becomes grittier, it takes on more substance, becomes harder to write.

Because what begins as simply a list of things that she's always thought were her expectations; in life and in men, soon becomes a personal letter, one girl's plea; for someone to show her she's worth the effort of trying.

X

**1. Talking is a necessity**.

(The strong, silent type goes from intriguing to boring quicker than you'd think.)

Not _everything_ has to be shared, let's be reasonable here; but I at least want to _feel_ like I could talk to you about anything and everything. And I'm not asking you to spill your heart at every turn, but clueing me in as to what's going on in that head of yours, is nice every once in a while.

And you're going to have to be rather astute at times as to when is the right time to push something and make me open up and talk about it, and when it's time to just back off and let me come to you and talk in my own time, and my own way.

Oh, and when it comes to certain things, you're going to just have to realise that even if I'm not: I sometimes need to feel like I'm one of the few people you'd ever talk to about such things; even better, the only one.

**2.** **Listening.**

Your input is appreciated, but you have to know when to just shut up and let me go with it on my own too. If I'm upset or annoyed, it's probably best to just let me vent; don't worry, you'll get your turn soon enough.

Sometimes I just need an ear; I don't want to hear about the 'real' problems elsewhere, I want to feel like what I'm going through matters, and that you care enough to listen to me; it's all about you being there for me.

Also, if I tell you I've had a bad day, it's not an invitation for you to try and compete with me. I don't want to hear it; I just want someone to listen.

You should be able to recall vague details from certain conversations, if nothing more, if only to nod and go along with me as I (ramble) speak.

You should throw random titbits into conversations, because it's always nice to know that your words meant something, even if it is just your way of laughing at me.

You should remember little things I've mentioned in passing, because, like already stated; it's nice to know someone thought enough about you to think your words worthy of remembering and storing away for future use, and if you can use them for something productive; like, say, buying me a bunch of my favourite flowers all the better for you.

You should listen for what I don't say as well, as odd as this may sound. If I've deliberately been stepping around something, you should recognise this, even if it only vaguely registers with you, and ask me about it; because what I really want is for you to notice.

**3.** **Make me laugh.**

This is a must, and should be performed as often as possible.

You should be able to do this even when I don't want to smile, sometimes especially then.

I want to feel like I can be silly and hyper and have fun around you, without you telling me I'm being childish or immature; when I want to let loose and laugh and smile, I want to be able to do it with you.

Tickle me; I'll scream, and kick up a fuss, but I really love the attention it brings.

Tease me; it gives me the opportunity to tease you back, and if I'm laughing or there's a smile playing on my lips as I do so, in case you didn't know, I'm flirting with you; go with it.

**4.** **Apologise, and mean it.**

Don't let your stupid pride or stubbornness get in the way of admitting you were wrong, or stop you from apologising. I'm not saying I'll always be able to give you the same in return – come on now let's not be too hasty here – but I will try, and you will _know_ when I am truly sorry.

I'll most likely forgive you anyway, so just apologise already if I'm mad at you, or even if you think you've not done anything wrong. Honestly, it'll be infinitely less painful this way.

You should be able to say sorry through gifts as well as words; grand gestures and smaller, more intimate acts should be performed when appropriate; ie not after every little fight – I don't want to be left thinking you're buying your way back into my heart. And besides, if you use up all your presents as sorry-gifts, you'll have none left for those _'just because'_ times.

Give me the courtesy of saying sorry when you should, and forgiving me my mistakes; and I'll try my best to reciprocate, because Lord knows, I hate to be labelled a hypocrite.

**5. Spontaneity and surprises.**

This isn't needed _all_ the time, but it's like the listening thing; it's nice to know someone thought of you enough for them to do something special for you. It doesn't always have to be something big, or completely 'out-there', just something to show me that I'm not alone in having you on my mind, and wanting to show you.

If it's a special occasion, you'll get special points for doing something a bit different, or unexpected; something you know I'll appreciate; but you'll also get points for doing it _'just because'_.

Turning up at my door or at a party when you insisted you weren't going to go or 'couldn't make it' (yeah right!), will probably piss me off, but the surprise and the feeling that you did it just for me will soon win me over.

**6. The little things.**

A little text or short phone call in the morning will get me every time; even if it's just to say 'hi' or 'hope you have a good day'. As will a goodnight text, or a call or text to see how my day went.

A short note hidden in my drawer or left somewhere lets me know that I crossed your mind, and is always delightfully received.

Actually calling when/if you say you will actually means more than you'd think. The repercussions of not performing such an action are fairly huge. Unless you've got a good reason for not calling when you said you would, you're not gonna win, and don't expect to be let off easy either. Much time and effort will have been put in waiting for said phone call, not to mention after where I will try and put reason behind the non-existent call, spend hours deliberating over it, before most likely coming to the conclusion that I no longer like you. If you don't know when or if you can call, that's _fine_, just say that; I'd rather a surprise call than one that's kept me waiting around only to never happen.

Holding my hand, especially if you're the one to make the first move, is always appreciated; even if it's only as we sit alone together on the sofa, sometimes especially then; because it's all in the thought.

Having manners, and doing something like holding a door open for me doesn't mean your masculinity is suddenly in jeopardy; chivalry can be revived at any moment, and simple actions like that don't take a lot, but they do mean a lot. Use this to your advantage: expend the least amount of energy, and get rewarded for it; it's really not that difficult.

**7. Save me.**

Every girl likes to be saved every once in a while.

I want you to protect me and be there if I need you, but there's protective and just plain possessive. Jealousy only looks good on you for so long, and smothering me will not do you any favours.

If someone's bothering me, and you're not by my side, judge the situation, and then get to it. I might not always want or need you to fight my battles for me, but just having you there is a nice support to have all the same.

If a _guy_ is bothering me, and you're not by my side, why the Hell aren't you? Come over and slip an arm round my waist, or over my shoulders; let the guy know I'm yours, and that he needs to back off; a simple 'Hey', 'How's it going over here?' or even 'Everything ok over here?' might not hurt either.

I want to feel like you'd fight for me, even if you're never actually given the opportunity for the physicality. It makes me feel safe and protected and _loved_.

**8. Look after me.**

When I'm sick, come visit me, and bring me something to cheer me up: thoughtful words will do, but a stuffed animal or even chicken soup would help too.

When I'm upset, I desperately just want to be held. I want to be able to cry into your chest or on your shoulder, or wherever; I just want to be able to cry in front of you, and for you to hold me and make me feel like I'm not alone.

When I'm annoyed or unhappy, sometimes you just being there is enough. You don't always have to hold the key to soothing my troubles, but it would help; and making me forget them comes close to this too.

Cheer me up when I'm sad or down, and make me feel like everything's ok, even when it's not.

Reassuring me when I get scared is a must, even if you do make fun of me for it after, or during, I want to know you're there for me – even if it's something as simple as putting your arm around me to remind me of your presence, or squeezing my hand when I jump at a scary part in a film.

**9. Quirks and hobbies should be tolerated.**

Just because you don't like my favourite show, doesn't mean you can rag all over it, make fun of the characters and the 'stupid storylines' and expect me to just laugh it off. Continual attempts to distract while watching said shows will also not be appreciated. You have your sports and your own stuff, I have my shows: compromise and tolerance will go a long way.

My constant trigger-happy finger is only on the loose because I like to take pictures of you. I like having little mementos of our time together and capturing those moments that I don't always get to see; so deal with it, and take it as a compliment and be grateful I'm choosing you as a preference over some Adonis celebrity, or whatever.

Don't make fun of things I'm proud of. If I tell you about something I've achieved, I don't do it to have it or me ridiculed or mocked; I'm letting you in on something that means a lot to me, so appreciate the gesture. Gentle prodding is allowed, but overdo the teasing and move right onto taunting and you better be prepared to make a grovelling apology.

Don't make fun of my shopping habits either: if need be I _will_ take you with me, and I _can_ make it torture. I will never have enough shoes, belts, bags… or any other item I have decided to (obsessively) multi buy; just accept it.

**10. Broaden my horizons.**

Challenge me, without overstepping the mark. Make me question things; the world around me, myself; but make sure it's not to the point where I'm doubting myself and what I'm capable of; unless you're able to instantly instil self-confidence back within me like it was before you got there.

Teach me new things: even if it is only how to lose against you at that ridiculous online game of checkers – which, by the way, didn't even follow the _proper_ rules.

Learn with me: hit me with random trivial things, that make me laugh and frown; that make me discover something new or different, or something that makes me revise the past or what I thought I knew, or in fact do.

Join me in doing different things: even if it's something as simple as watching a film neither of us would usually even fathom being an interesting contender for our attention.

Travel places with me; it doesn't have to be a Euro-Asia backpacking trip, even going somewhere like the beach or park counts.

Share with me your experiences, good or bad; and help me make memories with these in mind.

**11. Humour me.**

This comes in many forms, but each is appreciated.

It could be something as simple as biting your tongue, nodding your head and just agreeing with me about something I'm ragging on about.

Or it could be letting something slide; like one of my little quirks, that you think is ridiculous, but I count as completely normal and part of my… character.

It could be staying in with me when I'm not well, or feeling down, or '_just because'_ and watching a film with me – even if it's one you've seen thousands of times before, or it's a chick flick you'd _really_ rather not have to see, or it's just really a terrible film, in _your _opinion, but it happens to be my favourite.

Or it could be lending me your jumper when I'm cold and then not constantly nagging me to return it; in truth, you're probably better off forgetting about it or getting a replacement, because you're not getting it back. I like being reminded of why I have it, with the simple notion that I have it to begin with; but I also like to wear it, both when you're around and when you're not; it smells of you and reminds me of you, both of which I like; deal with it.

**12. Don't judge me.**

Let me be who I am without judging me for it.

Allow me to make mistakes, and forgive me them.

Let me grow and become who I'm supposed to be.

Be with me throughout; help me up when I fall, guide me when I'm lost, and be my constant when everything seems smooth-sailing.

**13. Be affectionate.**

It doesn't always have to be in public, private times are important too, but if you're always afraid of showing the world that I'm yours, don't expect to me to bemine much longer.

Words count too. It's always nice to hear compliments, especially when I've made an effort, which you have to know is all for you. If you say things to me that consist of more than just three or five letter words, this will mean even more; because using more unique or extravagant words makes me feel that bit more beautiful in itself and… it's more like a fairytale; it actually seems like you took the time to think of words to describe me, and that in itself means a lot.

When you wrap your arms around me I feel safe, and wanted, and loved. You don't always need to ask why I smile when you do this, sometimes letting the gesture be enough works in itself.

**14. Keep me grounded.**

Make sure I don't let my confidence get the best of me.

Frustrate me to know end; let me know you know exactly what to do and say to push my buttons just so, but be able to make it up in a matter of moments.

Be there to keep a level head on my shoulders, and remind me of my path, or track-_ish_ in life.

Be there to remind me I'm only human, and that this is in fact _ok_.

**15. Involve me.**

I don't have to be a part of everything you do – obviously, but it's nice to be consulted for an opinion, even if you _don't_ actually use it at all.  
Just like it's nice to be invited to something, even if you think I'd sooner walk around the city in nothing but a black refuse bag than go anywhere near such a place or do such a thing; you never know, I might just surprise you.

**16. Understand.**

Sometimes when we fight, I'm really more annoyed about something else, and this is just the way my rage is manifesting itself; _sometimes_. It is possible I am really just mad at you though. Let me be mad at you. Let me scream and shout at you, and if I try to do something or I try and hit you; grab a hold of me and hold me close. And when I try to get away, just hold me tighter. I need to know you'll be there, even when things get tough.

When I say I don't care; smile at me in that way of yours (yes, that means your smirk – no, it doesn't mean exclusively this) and whisper to me, 'Yes you do.'

This might work out better for you if you prove to me why I do – see above.

Allow me to grasp onto every 'love' song that comes on the radio or plays on the TV when we're together and say it was made to describe us; just go with it: sometimes I need to believe they were put there for a reason; sometimes it's my reassurance of everything we are.

Sometimes I just need to hear I'm beautiful, that everything will work out fine, that you are there.

**17. Us.**

Make memories with me: times to reflect on; laughter or tears.

It's generally not what we do that matters, but the simple fact that I'm doing it with you.

**18. Luck.**

Make sure to remind me why I feel like the luckiest girl in the world: by any means possible; and yes, when I'm with you, I do actually feel like this.

X

"_There's nothing like eavesdropping to show you that the world outside your head is different from the world inside your head."  
_– _Thornton Wilder_

He appears at her door; all casual nonchalance and lopsided smirks. And he's leaning against the frame, in a manner that she chooses in that moment to term _lazy_ rather than 'ridiculously sexy' like her heart's racing along to; eyeing her up with dancing eyes, his fingers unconsciously worrying the piece of paper insecurely resting on his thigh, skimming across his knee with the slightest change in the air: the product of her true desires.

"Something to share?" He cocks an eyebrow and his playful tone rings true.

She stands firm, her lips pursing ever-so-slightly, forgoing crossing her arms in front over her chest; _defensive_, and going straight to the solid hands-on-the-hips stance; _defiance_.

She stares him down, her face hardening as she spits out, "No. What about you?"

He bows his head, closed mouth muffling a low chuckle, before taking a step forward.

"Nothing you want to tell me?" He's baiting her, she knows; doesn't need that damned smirk of his to tell her so, and she's nowhere _near_ in the mood for it.

She just glares at him in return.

There is a momentary battle of wills between them; silent, but present all the same.

He dips his head, and releases a sigh; in another life she might've thanked him for giving in so she doesn't have to.

He doesn't look up as he speaks; his voice deliberately low in practiced monotone. "I'm not your Prince Charming. I can't give you everything you want."

"Can't or won't?" she counters simply, watching his every move: from the slight stiffening of his shoulders, to the rocking of his heels.

Her eyes narrow ever slightly as she grits out what could have been the perfect sneer if she'd put that little bit more effort in. "Or simply too lazy to even try?"

"You've got all these things you want, all these expectations," he continues.

"I'm not the perfect guy, I screw up – a lot. And you're hardly perfect in this whole equation either. I don't understand you half of the time. I drive you insane. I'm always saying things that annoy you or hurt you in some way, and most of the time I've barely realised the fact that I'm meant to be apologising for them when you've gone all snappy-bitch on me."

He's looking down at his hands, as they move animatedly around, not even attempting to lift his eyes to meet your own.

"I don't think about things like you do, I don't act like you want me too, an I certainly don't have any desire to conform to your perfect image of a _boyfriend_."

And then he lifts his head up, though his eyes still refuse to set on hers and instead settle on flicker around her, as he tells her quite simply. "You deserve someone who can give you what you want, and more."

She doesn't realise at first that she's spoken, that she's uttered the words; until his eyes drag from the darting around her to fixate right on her very form; until it's like he's looking at her for the very first time.

"I only want you."

And when their eyes finally meet, there's something different present.

"I'm sorry," he breathes out.

She nods; her lips tight, actions stiff. Because suddenly her eyes are glassy, her vision blurring, and his face is swimming before her. She can feel the salt of her tears begin meandering down her cheeks; and she's trying _so_ hard to catch the sob in her throat, but she's not quite quick enough; and before she knows it, she's breaking. Her façade crumbling before the very person it was put in place to protect her from: she feels her legs give way beneath her, feels the overwhelming wetness of mascara tears pouring over her cheeks, feels her sobs try to find their voice, but get muddled with the reason of her pride and stubbornness, leaving her to end up emitting nothing more than another strangled cry.

Her knees meet the plush cream carpet, silencing the _thud_ and taking the brunt of the force, her shoulders shaking, and head bowed; with hands immediately flying to her face to cover tales of tell-all eyes and ruined make-up; because masking humiliation has always been her forte.

Strong arms wrap around her, pull her towards him, her hands moving to grab fistfuls of his shirt in an instant and she's crying into his chest; and one hand's holding her close, thumb tracing delicate circles on her back, the other gently smoothing her hair back. He doesn't speak, just places a soft, chaste kiss on her head and tightens his hold on her, drawing her even closer; and she's never felt more complete than in that moment.

Her insides are still churning, her clothes crumpled, her face a riddle of tear-stained cheeks and salty black tracks; ruby-red smears and glossy smudges; but suddenly she's smiling. It starts of slow: light tugs at the corners, but the twitches soon progress to a curve and before she knows it, she's hastily biting her lip and desperately trying to smother an ear-to-ear, face-splitting grin.

After a while he feels her breathing even out against him, and he tilts his head down to steal a peek at her sleeping form. His eyes catch on the smile playing on her lips, and he instantly feels his own as they curve their own wistful match to the stir of within him.

He wasn't going to be everything she wanted, he didn't even know if he could be; but as his eyes fall upon the last of her list he can't help but feel that maybe, just maybe, trying might just be worth it.

__

19. Butterflies

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The End.

_"Love is when the other person's happiness is more important than your own."  
_– _H. Jackson Brown Jr._

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Thanks for reading, and please leave feedback.  
Steph  
xxx


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